


I’m not okay

by MaryTagus



Series: Not all is bright colors and rainbows [9]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryTagus/pseuds/MaryTagus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak just closed the door of the loft leaving Oliver Queen sitting at the table facing the engagement ring she just carefully, painfully set in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m not okay

**Author's Note:**

> Felicity’s POV

I’m not okay. I should feel happy, giddy even. I’m walking again, but I’m not. I feel my legs can’t hold me. I long for the wheelchair I left behind, with my heart. And that’s when I understand it’s not my legs that are the problem. They are wobbly, for sure, but they have enough in them to hold me where I stand, my left shoulder against the wall. It’s the gaping hole where my heart once was that is making my all body crumble.

  
I’m not okay. Nothing is like I dreamt, like I thought we dreamt, together. A fool, I’m a fool. I deliver my all self to him, to us, to this family that existed only in my dreams. I never expected this, I never anticipated this and… I should have. I should have because this is the man I love, this is the man I know even better than I know myself… no, that’s a lie, I thought I knew better than myself. I guess they are right Love turns us all to fools. And, in-between the start gazing that clouded my vision, I didn’t see it. The signs were there I just didn’t give them the meaning I should have given them, like a year ago Felicity would have. At least I think she would have.

  
I’m not okay. At this point I think I will never again be okay. My heart is there on the other side of the door what is left in its place are ashes, remains of a future that will never be real. Happy images run through my mind, color fading to black and white. I can’t take this I can’t deal with this. My lungs don’t function correctly, I need air I need… I need him. My Oliver, the one I said yes to, the one who told me we would make it work, the one who stood by me as I fell, the one that listen to me when I needed someone to hear me, the one who sat by my hospital bed and ensured me he wouldn’t leave. And now I did, I’ve left.

  
I want to run, run back. But I can’t I can just move forward, away. But I can’t, I’m lacking the strength I had before. The pain is too overpowering. Through the color fading images I find myself incapable of doing more than issuing simple commands to my body. I focus on putting a foot in front of the other, on not losing contact with the wall. Step by step I move away, but the pain lingers on, almighty, all powerful. Finding myself at the car comes as a complete surprise.

  
I shouldn’t drive. I know I shouldn’t drive. I’m in no condition to drive. My phone shows me is picture as soon as I press the call log. I feel the tears starting to make their path to my chin. No. I can’t let them fall. Not yet. My finger presses forward but it’s not fast enough as the first tear escapes, falling over my red jacket turning the spot deeper red. Like a drop of blood over my heart.

Diggle. He would help me but… should I put him in this spot? He’s a friend, a brother, to both of us. And he would want me to stay with them and I don’t want to stay with them I need to cry, I need to scream. Tomorrow, tomorrow it will be better.

  
Thea. The pang of pain takes me by surprise. She knew. Thea knew. She never told me. It wasn’t her secret to tell, rationally thinking, it wasn’t her secret to tell but right now, on this moment, my reasoning has been overcome by a wave of feelings from which pain is the most pungent.

  
The phone is dialing before I register who comes after Thea.

  
“Felicity? Something wrong?”

  
“Curtis. I’m sorry to call you so late. Can you come and pick me up at home?”

  
“Felicity, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  
I hung up before he utters anymore words.

  
“No I’m not okay. I’m never going to be okay.”

 


End file.
